


Snippets

by Hugabug



Category: Academia (Anthropomorfic), Buhay Kolehiyo, SSU, Sexy Sexy Universities
Genre: But essentially just soft boys, Declarations Of Love, Drunkenness, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, M/M, POV Alternating, Soft Boys, Sometimes spicy boys, but why am i having so many feelings, like a glimpse of kink maybe, over personified schools, this was fun to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 05:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10735308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hugabug/pseuds/Hugabug
Summary: It's the little moments.





	Snippets

**Author's Note:**

> a friend and I started talking cute SalleNeo scenarios on FB and this was born

**Study date**

“Wrong hand.”

“Hm?”

The hand in his right flexes in reply, the owner letting out a noise that can only be described as a distressed squeak. It brings out a laugh from Salle and he looks up to throw a raised eyebrow at his disgruntled boyfriend.

“Wrong hand.” Neo says the second their eyes meet. “We can switch seats if you want.”

Salle blinks, innocently. “Why? I like this hand.”

“It’s my left hand.”

“And?”

“You’re holding it with your right.”

“Mmhmm?”

Neo sighs, slumping in his seat as Salle’s smirk widens. He’d stopped struggling, and their fingers are intertwined, palm to palm, wrists pressed snuggly against each other.

“You’re working too hard.” Salle shrugs. “I told you to take a break five minutes ago and you haven’t stopped.”

Neo frowns. The act makes his brow furrow and Salle reaches across with his own left hand to smooth it over with his thumb.

“It’s hell week.” His boyfriend attempts to justify. But he’s nuzzling Salle’s palm like some funny yet accurate imitation of Archer on a good day, so Salle counts it as a win.

“Just five minutes.” Salle urges, moving his hand to cradle Neo’s head when the other boy all but sags into his touch. His eyes are closed, face serene, and Salle scoots closer, guiding his boyfriend’s head to rest securely on his shoulder.

“Five minutes.” He hears Neo murmur. “Wake me up after five minutes.”

Salle doesn’t say anything. He just presses his cheek against soft brunette hair and nods.

* * *

 

**Kisses**

It tastes of cherry and watermelon and a bit of sweet that he’s sure is from a chemical that he could never really name. But the stickiness is welcome on his lips, and the smell, no matter how faint, is intoxicating. He darts a tongue out, runs it across red pigment, and laughs when green eyes follow the tantalizing swipe of movement.

“Come here.” He breathes, reaching out, leaning forward. Salle meets him halfway and they crash into each other, teeth knocking against teeth, lipstick smearing across chapped lips. Neo giggles into the kiss, alcohol thick in their mingled breaths and Salle is panting when they part.

“It’s spread.” Salle says, voice rough. It feels like a dream, when his thumb glides so easily across Neo’s kiss-swollen bottom lip. In the dim light of the street lamp filtering through partly close blinds, Neo could see lipstick on a clean cut jaw line, cherry red on a strong nose. There’s some on Salle’s neck, too. Neo rubs it into his skin with his fingers and laughs when it gets lost in the hazy pink flush of arousal.

* * *

 

**Morning After**

When he wakes up, the empty sheets rumpled next to him are disappointingly cool. He runs a hands across them, as if trying to chase the warmth that could still be lingering amongst the folds.

"Why did you leave?" He asks, aloud. _Was I too clingy? Was I too much? Did we go too fa--_

From the bathroom, Neo laughs. "Because you have morning breath."

Something wound tight in Salle loosens and, despite himself and his raging headache, he quirks a smile at the cracked ceiling and gets up, making his way to his boyfriend. Neo's standing at the sink, blessedly naked sans for his blue boxer briefs, and Salle wraps arms around a narrow waist, peppering his bare shoulders with numerous kisses.

"Kiss me." He breathes against the other boy's ear.

Neo shakes his head. "Brush your teeth first."

Salle obeys, and after, when they're back in the sheets, Neo straddling his hips, Salle fancies that he can taste the smile right off his boyfriend's peppermint lips.

* * *

 

**Neck Kisses**

It's so quick, how hissing and low blows can turn into passionate kissing.

Neo can't even remember what they were arguing about, here in the one of the neon lit dim halls just outside the bar they'd found themselves in. Was it about the woman who'd so flirtatiously touched his arm? The bartender who'd brought him a drink from the middle aged man with a wedding ring on his finger? All he could focus on right now is the rough drag of chapped lips against his teeth, calloused hands wrapping themselves around his wrists. He's against the wall, head tilted against concrete, mouth opening up under the merciless attack of a warm tongue.

When they part, a string of saliva connects them, and Neo desperately chases after Salle, looking for more.

But Salle doesn't grant him access. Instead, he ducks his head and presses the gentlest of kisses just below the cut of Neo's jaw.

It jolts him. He groans.

"Bite me." Neo pleads, directly into Salle's ear. "Show them I'm yours."

Salle stiffens. Lifts his head. Neo stares into green eyes and is surprised to see them so wide.

"You're mine?" Salle says, a question more than a statement. It sounds fragile, disbelieving but hopeful. Neo goes soft at the tone and wrests his hands from the ones that are holding on to him. Cradles the other boy's face between his palms.

"Yes." Is all he says as he presses kisses against suddenly damp cheeks, chapped lips. " _Yes_."

* * *

 

**Parked Cars**

It's raining outside, the pitter patter of fat rain drops incessant against the metal roof of the car. Salle thinks that it sounds like music, a rising crescendo of a symphony written with him in mind. He laughs, uncharacteristically, and the boy with his lips against the curve of his jaw startles.

“What?” Neo asks, soft and a little dopey, lifting his head to look at Salle through half-lidded eyes. “What is it?”

Salle shakes his head and wraps an arm around a slim waist. “C’mere.” he says, a little out of breath. “Just… stay like this muna.”

“Why?”

The question is playful and careless, let loose from between the folds of shiny wet lips with no hesitation. But Salle freezes anyway, something tight curling itself around his ribs, his chest, his windpipe. Neo is looking at him, something unreadable in his eyes, and Salle wants to look away.

He doesn’t. “Please. Stay.”

Outside, the rain continues to fall, the overwhelming crescendo in sync with the pounding in his chest. Inside, Neo tucks his face into the crook of Salle’s neck and mutters, “Why would I want to leave? It’s raining.”

The weather is cold, but Salle feels warm.

* * *

 

**Intertwined**

Fingers enclose around his right hand, pressing it tight against a calloused palm. Neo stiffens.

“Is this alright?” Salle asks when he looks up. It sounds so nonchalant, and his expression is so carefully calm. Neo flinches when he meets hard green eyes that crumble at its brittle edges. Unconsciously, he moves to intertwine their fingers.

“I,” he begins, licking his lips, mouth suddenly dry. “I’m not good at this. At words, or at… at lambing. It’s always you. I’m sorry.”

Salle shakes his head. Opens his mouth.

“No. Wait. Just--” Neo cuts him off, pressing his lips into a thin line as he searches for the right thing to say. Salle looks at him, patiently, anxiously, and Neo remembers what the other boy had told him, the first time they kissed.

“ _I’ve been told that I’m too much._ ”

The lump in Neo’s throat aches. “Ikaw na lang palagi.” He says. “It’s not fair to you.”

Salle frowns. “I want to do it.”

“No, I don’t want you to stop.” Neo hastily corrects himself, drawing Salle closer until he’s got their hands sandwiched between their thighs. “I just want to say na I want to do better. To be better.”

Salle is looking at him now, green eyes searching every inch of his face for meaning. It’s intrusive. Stiffling. Neo wants to run.

He stays.

“I want to be better for you.” He whispers, a promise just for them. “You deserve more for who you are.”

He licks his lips again, as if trying to chase the taste of the words that had just left his mouth. Salle doesn’t follow the swipe of his tongue like he usually does, and Neo feels his chest stutter when the other boy slips an arm around his waist, eyes never once looking away.

“I don’t understand.” Salle says, face close. Breath ghosting across Neo’s cheek. “What are you saying?”

There’s something vulnerable in his tone. Disbelieving, after all this time. Neo’s breath comes up short.

“I love you.”

And when Salle grins, the dam breaks.

“I love you.” Neo finds himself babbling, carefully built walls thrown out the window. “I love your smile. I love your hands. I love how you always try to hide your eye bags with Cessie’s concealer. I love how you always try to make me laugh. I love how easily you can make me laugh. How easy it is to talk to you. How gentle you are. I hate how you think I don’t love you, because I _do_. I’ve never said it before, I know, but I do love you. And I hate myself for ever letting you feel unloved-- you don’t deserve that, you’re--”

Salle presses their foreheads together, eyes twinkling. “Can I have a turn?”

Neo’s eyes flutter shut. He nods.

“You’re anal retentive.”

“ _Excuse me?_ ”

He pulls away, scowling at the mischievous smirk plastered across his boyfriend’s smug face. Yet for some reason, Neo can’t find it in himself to bristle.

Salle continues; “You cram but you’re a perfectionist. You’re allergic to everything dirty it’s a surprise you’re as kinky as you are. You live off CBTL and Coco for some reason. You like pineapple on your pizza just because you know I hate it. You only have one pair of jeans. I love you in folded chino shorts but I never say because you look so cute when you pout.”

“Now that’s just rude.”

Salle laughs, bright and soft, eyes crinkled at the sides, the bridge of his nose creasing the larger his grin gets. He steps closer, presses their foreheads together again, and Neo wants to remember this moment, a hundred, a thousand years into the future, until the very end.

“You’re so annoying.” Salle breathes. “And so, _so_ wonderful.”

Neo smiles, teasing. “What are you saying?”

“I love you, gago.” He sounds so _happy_. “It’s about goddamn time.”

They crash into each other, and the words between them taste sweet.


End file.
